Little Spitfire
by Bejiitto
Summary: At the end of 'Denial', Wally adds the Helmet of Fate to his growing collection of souvenirs and contemplates the final words spoken to him by the departed Kent Nelson. What if instead of Artemis confronting Wally about these issues, it had been Robin...?


**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Young Justice, DC, or any of its characters. Sadly. If i did, there would be fun times. Very fun times indeed.

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**-Little Spitfire-  
**

_MOUNT JUSTICE_

_August 20, 03:48 EDT  
_

The sound of scuffling footsteps gently echoed about the empty room as he approached the case of shelves, adding a much needed sense of presence other than his own. Upon arrival he was caught in a moment of quiet reflection, and Wally allowed his eyes to gently sweep across the celebrated items upon the top-most row. Each one brought its own rush of memories, contained its own stories. The eye of the android that had tumbled out of a bulked up mechanical 'Mister Twister' suit, an event which now felt so long ago... The hood of that Big Bad they'd run across on that island a while back, man that had been one heck of a night... The arrow which was neither Green Arrow's or Sp- _Red Arrow's_, but in the end had belonged to Artemis. A quirky smile tugged at the edge of the boy's mouth as he whimsically wished that epic battle had taken place in _**his **_school, maybe then he wouldn't keep missing out on the summer fun all the time... And then the ivory grin of a vicious mask, with hollowed out eyes that pierced into souls. Wetness hitched momentarily within his throat, and he decided not to remember.

Careful. So carefully, his hands lifted the Helmet of Fate upwards, edging it over the lip of the shelf and setting its golden hull down gently upon the oaken surface. Its new home. _Their _new home. For now, at least. After all, Wally West is a man who keeps his promises... Let go, one step back and he sees the whole picture. Filled with a sudden sense of swelling satisfaction, the redhead brought his wrists up and rested them against his hips. From this vantage point, the kid speedster could revel in the pride of achievement. Not for him just collecting objects, items and physical testaments to past missions... but for the successes and victories of their team. So far. Which was the beauty of it, really. One shelf nearly filled, a limitless amount to go... Inevitably, his gaze falls back onto the glistening helm on the far right, and he feels the softest of smiles grace his features once more. The last words of Mister Nelson resounded within his own mind, and for a moment-

"**Y'know, **_**normal **_**people collect stamps, coins... stuff like that**."

Dick.

_Rob_.

Wally reminds himself as he turns only halfway at first, enough to throw a glance of green over his shoulder to meet the sleek sheen of black glass. A thin but impenetrable veil that hid blue eyes. Blue eyes only he could see. ... In fact even now, either his mind was playing tricks with him, or he swore he could _see _that mischievous twinkle hiding behind the security of darkened lenses. The eyes were an easy compliment to imagine after all, as the rest of his best friend's face was already tweaked effortlessly into that characteristic smirk of his. He knew that look too well. And before he even began 'thinking' of a response his mouth dished out a trained verbal joust right back at his casually dressed acquaintance.

"**Coming from **_**you**_**? Seriously, dude?**"

If he had a nickel for every time Rob boasted excitably about a huge mechanical dinosaur that towered over the Batcomputer, the shadow of a giant penny that fell across the training floor, or the oversized 'Joker' playing card that watched dauntingly from the walls of the Batcave... He'd used those nickels to bribe Bats to let him in his cave so he could see these 'trophies' for himself, one day... ... Okay, considering who Bats _was_, that plan wasn't exactly his best. Also that would take a _lot_ of nickels.

With a chuckle, Robin came off the doorway he had been leaning against, unfolding his arms and taking the few steps forward to come to a viewing stance alongside Wally himself. His face was directed up at the shelf of souvenirs, but whether his eyes were even looking there was another question entirely. Barely able to contain his inner delight at the pleasant surprise his absent buddy's sudden appearance had brought him, the Central City native blurted out another response before the other could even begin a reply of his own.

"**'bout time you showed up, anyway. What kept you?**"

The tone of his own voice was tempered with a great degree of good humour, indicating that the question was very much more of a jest than any sort of interrogation. He wasn't seeking information, never sought information from Rob, where it wasn't 'needed'. When it came to matters of business, matters of home and personal life in Gotham, he always tried to be mindful of letting the other boy open up to him on his own terms. Rather like the force of a spring in physics, you should only push it as far as it wanted to yield. As far as it _allowed _you to go. And then there was that fear of one day accidentally stretching their relationship too far, too quickly in one direction, that it might snap altogether... Besides, in this case, it really wasn't needed nor much of his business in the first place.

The answer was what he was expecting, anyway.

"'**The usual.**"

Practically a shrug. And that's all he needed.

There was only a few seconds of silence, before the high, lilted voice of the black haired boy beside him piped up yet again. That head was now inclined in a slight tilt towards him, inquisitive, though a pale finger rose and gestured up to the golden helmet sat upon the high shelf before them. His expression was... neutral. Hard to read. Even after knowing him this long, more intimately than anyone other than those within the confines of Dick Grayson's own _home_, Wally found there were moments where even _he _could not 'read' the boy properly. And he felt guilty because of it, sometimes.

"**'Heard about what happened... from the others. Sounds like you guys had your hands full back here.**"

The tone matched the blank face. Just an amalgamation of multiple suggestions; commentary, questioning, concern... In all honesty, Wally wasn't sure on how to respond to any pressing into today's events. Or whether he wanted to respond at all... It wasn't even possible to brush off Robin with a dumb wisecrack, a stupid joke, or obnoxious remark that would rebuff everyone else from his presence within a minute. The result was just a hapless default avoiding answer, one that he left trailing just as he averted his eyes from that boyish face looking up at him expectantly.

"**Heh, yeah, sure was something...**"

But instead of a change of topic or the whole conversation simply dissolving from there, Robin pressed on insistently with a lightning fast... apology?

"**Sorry. -that i wasn't around, i mean. I know the whole 'magic' thing really isn't your deal, but...**" Wally did nothing but stare, almost forgetting to digest any words that followed. About a thousand 'What are you apologizing for?'s and a million 'It's not your fault's teetered precariously on his own lips, but his own surprise kept him from spluttering either out. Either Rob didn't notice his friend's frozen look of confusion, or he definitely had and was simply going to continue regardless. "**-if you kept the Helmet of Fate, then...**" The small boy before him angled his head back towards Doctor Fate's infamous artifact, regarding it with a quiet contemplation that Wally knew on instinct was 'deduction'. "**I probably missed something big...**_** important**_**...**"

And suddenly those blackened shades were directed straight back up at him again, but even without windows to that soul, Wally had long since gained the experience to read those obscured expressions back to front. There were creases settled in his younger peer's forehead, shallow and slight, but enough to tense the skin around the eyebrows and angle them downwards. Those thin lips were stretched into a dead straight line, showing no signs of wavering or twitching at the edges. Rob's entire body language had suddenly tightened, its presentation tense and all the muscles to some degree taut. This was completely serious, which immediately made the ginger teenager feel uncomfortable. Unguarded. Studied. And in that instant his defense mechanisms flipped into overdrive, and with a first bout of incredulous small laughter, ever suave and 'cool' Kid Flash attempted to exude his nonchalant nature to its fullest.

"**What?**" He began with a careless shrug of his heavier shoulders, putting on an indifferent smile and dappling his voice with the air of the comfort and entirely casual. "**Dude, it's just a souvenir! The only thing you missed was a load of beta-waves and bio-scrip-**"

What was he thinking.

Like _Robin _ever let him get away with-

"_**Wally.**_"

The tone was sharp, and loud enough to echo ominously within the emptied cavern room.

... Not even a chance.

Never had one. Not with this fiery little guy.

Within a blink his own 'Dick Grayson' was suddenly right in front of him, chin lifted so that his face looked directly up into Wally's own. That small frown was still very much there upon the shorter boy's features, almost accusing. Maybe demanding. Certainly _com_manding. And once again the metahuman found himself simply imagining what those eyes must be looking like behind the reflective glass. ... It really was no use pretending. They'd known each other too long for that. And so there and then, the facade dropped quite suddenly, a labored sigh escaped him and Wally's frame significantly drooped with a weight neither of them could see. Correspondingly, the tension immediately left Robin's small wirey body, and his masked face softened with a slight touch just as the older teen began to grudgingly confess.

"**... Yeah... Maybe some big, important stuff happened... to me. For me.**" Rob straightened suddenly, setting his shoulders back slightly and shifting his feet so that the weight rested more on his heels. The indicative gesture strongly suggested that he was lending all of his honest attention and the utmost value to the words the older kid was now speaking. Perhaps more importantly, it was deliberately delivered in a way that made sure Wally himself knew that..."**When i put the Helmet on- i mean, why i kept it is...**" And yet even with that unspoken support, the new hesitant and somewhat 'believer' in the mystic arts still struggled to find the words he needed. Before he knew it his own hand was sifting impatiently though the thick ginger fuzz of hair atop his head, threading fingers through the short strands for no reason whatsoever other than to express his own exposed helplessness.

But just like that, he was rescued from his own predicament.

A small, pale hand had reached up and clutched onto his wrist. One tug and his larger hand was out of his now thoroughly mussed hair, caught in the surprisingly fierce and yet strangely comforting grip of a boy three-quarters his own size. Questioningly, the 15 year old glanced back down to the short figure in front of him, blinking once and with lips dumbly parted. As if he were awaiting in awe for some momentous action, expression or occasion. Instead there was only the slow, gradual motion of Robin bringing Kid Flash's hand- and mind- back down to Earth from somewhere above his own head. Once Wally's arm was set back to its side, the calloused gymnast hands of his peer slid in retreat over the back of his hand until it disappeared altogether within the pocket of the Boy Wonder's skinny jeans. It was only the famous songbird voice that then shattered the scientist's momentary daze.

"**You don't have to talk about it **_**now, **_**KF... It's only...**" A pause, which was only filled with a small frustrated huff on Robin's part and some awkward shifting from foot-to-foot, as if even the most socially comfortable kid in the world that he knew was finding trouble trying to find the right words in all of this."-**if you need or want to talk to anyone about it...**" Was his face going...?"**Just don't do something stupid like bottling stuff up... or trying to hide it when something's bothering you, okay?** **You're **_**really **_**bad at it.**" It ended with a vitriolic jibe that was quintessential of Rob's usual dialogue towards him, especially in the presence of others. As if to accentuate the impatient irritability he was trying to exude, the kid tightly folded his comparatively thin arms across his green hoodie-adorned chest. Though in all honesty, as ever, this just provoked Wally into snorting in amusement and before he knew it, he was playing along with 'the joke'.

"**Well, so much for my acting career. Good thing the whole superhero thing is way cooler anyway.**"

A devilish toothy smile almost immediately decorated the young acrobat's face, and within a singular exchange a flood of relief and agreement had been consolidated between the two. The situation quickly dissolved into an all too rehearsed duel of humored quips and innocent laughter.

"**No, no you're **_**really **_**bad at that too.**"

"**Says **_**you**_** and your non-powered butt!**"

"**You can't even use your powers properly.**"

"**Can too.**"

"**Vibrating molecules through a wall attempt equals bloody nose?**"

"_**Dude**__**!**_"

A bout of triumphant chuckling from the 'laughing young daredevil' and the young boy clapped a hand on Wally's shoulder blade, twice for a joking emphasis. Showing off a wide and genuine variety of amused smile, the brunet jerked his free thumb back to the doorway, subtly guiding KF towards it with his other hand. The voice that followed was animated and energetic, alighting Wally's own spirit with its youthful enthusiasm and effortlessly managing to ease any leftover inner conflicts from before. He'd deal with those later. With this little guy back around HQ again after them both having a long day on the job, his time would be better spent having fun than mulling on the events of hours before.

"**I've got just the thing to cheer you up in the meantime, KF.**"

Showing off his typically effusive personality, the circus boy had already gracefully bounded ahead and was already out into the corridor, gesturing down the hall impatiently.

"**Oh **_**really**_**?**"

Wally teased, lacing his tone with a deliberately overdramatic sense of being unimpressed with whatever idea or game or prank the Gothamite could possibly have in mind.

"**Yeah, really! So hurry up!**"

There was an additional comment about him not believing he just had to say that to a _speedster_, but it soon trailed off out of earshot as Wally paused at the doorway, letting the other boy run ahead for the moment. A generous 'headstart', maybe, the thought of which caused the Flash's junior partner to sport a cheeky smug grin of sorts. Within this moment of hesitation, a thought occurred to the young man and he turned his head to cast a look back to the rows of shelves that adorned the wall at the end of the room. Once again his eyes looked instinctively towards the current home of both Nabu and Mister Nelson, and yet again his mind began to wander to the final conversation he had shared with the departed.

'_Find your own little spitfire. One who won't let you get away with nothin'._'

Rob.

_Dick_.

Wally reminds himself as he turns only halfway at last, enough for green to be averted from the shelf and back to the fore. The thought comes to him without the slightest hesitation, and the analytical mind of the scientist within him churns in curiosity and ponders more upon this as he begins a leisurely pace after his own best friend. Confidant. Secret-keeper. Closest person...

He thanks Mister Nelson for the advice.

Kindly.

But

He didn't need to find what he already had.

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A/N: Hey hey, thanks for reading, leave a comment/review/anything you want if you can, this one of my first published fics ever, yada yada etc. etc.

I think of this as an alteration to the canon in almost a hilarious sense. A dating game sense. A Wally dating game. Where depending on previous choices and nurtured relationships a different person could have walked in on him at this moment and had a deep, meaningful conversation. Just so happened the canon player picked Artemis, and i'm choosing to pick the Robin path here. ... Wait, why do i suddenly want this imaginary game so hard...?


End file.
